Father's Day
by racefh853629
Summary: One shot.  Catherine's musings are interrupted... but in a good way.


A/N: Quick little random one-shot. I don't own CSI, CBS, or any characters. Rather sad/angsty, but that's how my muses are today for some reason. Hope you guys enjoy this!

* * *

**Father's Day**

Everyone always thinks that time makes everything easier. That after a year or so, everything becomes better, goes away. That the pain of loss dissipates all the much more once we're away from the time of occurrence.

One thing I've realized, though, is that it doesn't.

I know I'm not alone with how I'm feeling. Grissom understands. Or, at least he would if he had emotions. Sara probably does, but her life's more complicated and completely hidden, so I don't really know. I don't quite think that Warrick knew anything different. Greg and Nick are the only ones who have no idea.

Because on Father's Day, they still have someone to call and send stuff to. I don't really remember having that either, but Sam had been about as good as you can be when you're trying to pretend that you're not really related. There was something comforting in that relationship, something almost familial. But it's gone now, taken away by some guy with a gun.

Sitting in the break room, I wonder why this suddenly matters so much. I guess it was that Sam always was a father figure to me. Maybe that's why everything feels this empty today. It's the first Father's Day without him. I close my eyes, trying not to cry, even though that's all I really feel like doing. I'm not really sure why I'm feeling like this, but I can't help it. I miss Sam, and today's just a slap in the face reminder. Tears begin to fall down, and I can't help it, nor can I really stop them.

As someone walks in, I bow my head, not wanting them to see me like this. With my luck, though, I hear him sit beside me. the only reason I know it's one of the guys is that footsteps tell me it's not Sara. "Catherine?" Greg asks quietly. Shit. Of all the people to catch me, it's gotta be the baby. "Cath, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I reply, sniffling. I know I'm caught when he puts his arm around my shoulders.

"When I was in high school, my best friend lost her father on the day before Father's Day, about a week and a half before her birthday." I look over at him, tears in my eyes, wondering if anything he's saying is true. He gives me a sympathetic smile. "The first one's always the hardest. Second one still sucks. So does the third. But after a while, it gets easier. I know that seems impossible, but trust me. things do get better with time." He rubs my shoulder, and I think about what he's saying. It makes sense, I guess, first time around and all. I saw it with my own daughter. But even still, it doesn't make it any better now.

"I know right now it hurts," he continues. Is he a mind reader? "It sucks. But if you can make it through today, through this… you'll be golden, Catherine. Everything's hardest the first time around. I'm sure you watched this with Lindsey after Eddie died. It was just as hard on you, as you had to watch her struggle and you still cared for him and had to deal with that too. You probably also are wondering why this is such a problem for you, considering it took an off the record lab test to reveal he was your father in the first place."

"I don't know, Greg," I say finally. "I guess part of me always considered him father-esque."

"I understand. When my friend lost her dad, it was like I'd lost mine. He was a second father to me. taught me a lot."

"How did she get through it?"

"Friends and family. Helped her make it." I smile softly.

"It's a good thing I keep you around then, huh?" I joke. He smiles.

"Yeah, of course. And I'll be around all day." He winks as he stands, and I half-laugh.

"Thanks, Greg."

"No problem, Catherine. I gotta go harass Grissom. Find me if you need me."

"I will." He gets to the doorway before I stop him. "Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?" he asks, turning.

"What was you're 'friend's' name?" I emphasize 'friend's' because I don't believe every part his story, and he smiles.

"Stephanie." He walks out, and I shake my head.

"Sweet cousin Stephanie," I say to myself.

**THE END.**

* * *

A/N: Please review! 


End file.
